


Heart’s Ease

by Zatnikatel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zatnikatel/pseuds/Zatnikatel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Wordcount</b> ~300<br/><b>Spoilers</b> Season 8/8.07</p>
    </blockquote>





	Heart’s Ease

**Author's Note:**

> **Wordcount** ~300  
>  **Spoilers** Season 8/8.07

In Purgatory Cas used to sleep with his back up against Dean's, though Dean isn't sure if Cas really ever slept or not. Cas's breathing never really leveled off the way it should have, even if he was all exhaustion-shadowed eyes and barely-stifled yawns in the daylight.

Dean remembers lying there in the night with Cas's stinking trench pulled over them and Benny a lonely sentinel close by but far enough away, because Benny knew the deal, knew it from the first, when Dean didn't take his hand and skip out of there with him.

Sometimes as Dean shifted to get comfortable, Cas's scrubs-shirt would ride up and Dean would feel heated skin and the hard scrape of vertebrae pressed to the small of his own back.

After Purgatory Dean asks, "What the Hell happened down there?" 

Cas just says, "I feel safe now, Dean."

It isn't really an answer.

Or maybe it is.

After Purgatory Cas sleeps with his back to Dean, and his breathing is heavy and steady because he really is out of it, but he's shivering.

And Dean slides out of his own bed and slips under the blankets next to Cas, because he hasn't slept a damn wink since he found himself back in the World. But, "I feel safe now, Cas," he breathes into the nape of Cas's neck, and he smells soap on Cas's skin, and his own shampoo on Cas's hair.

Cas is freezing cold, and Dean folds himself around his friend. Cas's hip is just the right size for his palm, like Dean somehow knew it would be, and he rests his hand there and draws slow, gentle circles around the sharp point of the bone with his thumb while Cas grows warm and still in his embrace.

It isn't really an answer.

Or maybe it is.


End file.
